


Many Happy Returns

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [125]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, YCMAL 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: All Jared wants for his birthday is for Bryce to make the playoffs, but not against Jared. That’s it. He will be content if that is what he receives. Not that he’ll know for over a week, but he’s putting that out to the universe: no presents except not playing Bryce Marcus in the playoffs.
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [125]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/849798
Comments: 23
Kudos: 335





	Many Happy Returns

Vancouver cruises into clinching a spot at the end of March, and Jared is officially going to the playoffs. It’s a great feeling, though it’s a little muddied by the fact that Calgary is not so much cruising as revving forward and then backsliding and then shoving back, and if they do make the playoffs, it’ll be a skin of the teeth, buzzer beater sort of moment. That if Calgary does get in, that means at least a few more weeks apart, if not more. 

It gets to be a true nail biter when April dawns. Calgary is sitting just one point out of contention, so if they have a few bad games or another contender or two picks up points, they’re out. If they do well, they’re in. If they have a very good stretch of games they can potentially sneak up into the seventh seed.

The Canucks are second in the west but they don’t have a mathematical chance in hell to catch up to Kansas City, who’s blown every other team in the league out of the water, and hold a firm enough lead to almost certainly win the President’s Trophy. If they don’t, it’d be because they lost every single game, and even then the Canucks would still probably be behind them. The Canucks will play seventh seed or, worst case, they’ll play sixth seed. Calgary can’t make sixth, but with some luck of their own they can manage to leap frog from ninth to seventh, it’s so tight on the bubble.

Jared does not want the Flames to move up to the seventh seed. He doesn’t say it out loud, not to Bryce or Elaine, not to his family, not to any of his teammates or former teammates (Chaz would be aghast, Raf disapproving, Julius philosophical). He feels guilty about it, rooting for Bryce to succeed but not succeed _too much_ , hoping that the Flames succeed enough to make the postseason but not enough to earn a date with the Canucks. 

Because Jared has absolutely no idea what that would lead to, whether they’d be able to put it aside or not, the fact the rest of their season depends on their husband’s team losing. Jared already gets annoyed when Bryce plays particularly well against him in the _regular_ season, how is he going to feel if Bryce is doing it in the playoffs? How’s he going to feel if Bryce throws a borderline hit against one of his teammates, or one of his teammates throws a borderline hit against Bryce? Would he be welcome at their place when they were in Calgary? Would Elaine be comfortable with him staying with her in Vancouver when he’s playing her son?

It’s selfish as hell, he knows it is, that’s why he doesn’t say shit, but every time he checks the standings, does the mental math, the refrain is ‘please go up exactly one spot. Not two. Just one.’. His traitor dad would be disgusted. 

Jared _thinks_ if it came down to it his dad would root for him against Calgary. Probably at least. Jared was a lifelong Flames fan too and _he’d_ be rooting against Calgary, but it’s probably different when you’re actually on the other team.

All Jared wants for his birthday is for Bryce to make the playoffs, but not against Jared. That’s it. He will be content if that is what he receives. Not that he’ll know for over a week, but he’s putting that out to the universe: no presents except not playing Bryce Marcus in the playoffs. 

*

Bryce, of course, does not listen. Well, to the presents thing; no way to know about the playoffs. But on Jared’s birthday he’s just innocently sipping coffee across the table from Elaine, who gave him a particularly nice hug and a cheerful ‘happy birthday!’ when there’s a knock on the door, and when Jared opens it he has to sign for an absolutely huge bouquet of flowers.

“Oh, look,” Elaine says when Jared hauls it in. “From Bryce?”

“This is a stupid amount of flowers,” Jared says. It’s _heavy_ it’s so big. And then they’re going to die in a week or two and Bryce will have blown a bunch of money on nothing. 

“I love irises,” Elaine says happily, so Jared will grudgingly accept the flowers Bryce has sent, since they make Elaine happy, and that is a noble thing. “Did he leave a note?”

Jared picks a note out of the gigantic mess of flowers — irises, Jared presumes. Jared can tell a rose from a tulip, but that’s about it on his flower knowledge.

 _Mom loves irises_ , it says. _I wanted to get you flowers but know you don’t care about them so I picked a bouquet that she’d like. Stop frowning at the flowers. Happy 21st babe, I love you. x B_

Jared reluctantly smiles at the note, then hands it over to Elaine when she holds out grabby hands, smiling less reluctantly when she starts laughing.

“Well, he knows us,” Elaine says. “Let’s get some breakfast. Anywhere you like.”

They grab breakfast at a place near UBC Elaine recommends, since Jared has practice, and Jared keeps it light while Elaine happily devours a crepe that’s as much whipped cream as it is anything else before she drives him to practice.

“I have some errands,” Elaine says, and Jared could almost mouth it along with her by now. “Pick you up around one?”

“Sounds good,” Jared says, then startles at a knock on the window, turning to see Gabe. Jared eyes him suspiciously before rolling his window down.

“Happy birthday,” Gabe says, then, “Mrs. Marcus, I presume?”

Elaine glances over at Jared, and when Jared shrugs — she knows Gabe knows about him and Bryce — says, “Yes. But please call me Elaine.”

“Nice to meet you, Elaine, I hope you don’t mind if we take your son-in-law out to lunch?” Gabe asks, so politely Jared wants to like, punch him in the shoulder or something. “I don’t want to intrude if you’ve already got plans.”

“Not at all, please do!” Elaine says, then gives Jared this look like ‘what a nice young man!’. Jared would tell her it’s all fake, but sadly it is not. Gabe’s too nice for his own good, honestly. Thankfully he has a hobgoblin boyfriend to counteract that a bit.

“Terrific,” Gabe says. “We’ll get him home safe after. Come on, Math.”

Jared gets out of the car, giving Elaine a wave and getting a big wave back before she pulls out.

“Quit trying to charm Elaine,” Jared says.

“But I’m so charming!” Gabe says, then, “Hey!”, when Jared gives in to the urge to punch him in the shoulder.

It’s not a game day, so at least Jared isn’t subjected to a post-game shaving cream pie in the face in front of the media, though he is subjected to a post-practice shaving cream pie in the face, courtesy of one Dmitry Kurmazov, and then forced to get lunch with his attacker.

“Attacker,” Dmitry says. “Children are so dramatic.”

“No respect for their elders’ traditions,” Stephen says, and Gabe nods along. 

Jared scowls at them. “I think you’re supposed to be nice to me on my birthday,” he says.

“Sounds suspect,” Stephen says. 

“I’m driving all the way to Richmond after lunch,” Gabe says. “I think that counts as nice.”

“No one said you had to do lunch with me,” Jared mutters.

“Elder tradition,” Gabe says. “It’s the rules.”

“The rules,” Dmitry says with a big nod. “Shaving cream in face, lunch, cake.”

Of _course_ the cake ends up involving singing waitstaff and Dmitry holding his phone out with a shit-eating grin, presumably recording Jared putting his face in his hands to try to hide his mortification while Gabe joins in, distinctly off-key, and Stephen hums along happily because he’s enjoying Jared’s suffering. Jared hates all of them.

The cake’s good, at least. They provided extra forks, but Jared refuses to share, considering he paid for it in humiliation. 

Dmitry heads out after lunch to pick up his kids from daycare, and Stephen looks at his watch and then says, “I’ve already worked way too much overtime this month, I’ll hitch a ride with you guys.”

“It’s April second,” Jared says. 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Stephen says, and then, “Shotgun,” so Jared’s stuck in the back for the drive to Elaine’s, which is frankly unfair.

“It’s my car,” Stephen says. “Vehicle ownership trumps birthdays.”

Jared scowls at the back of his head, and Stephen gives him a victorious smirk in the rear view mirror and then flips his air to be extra irritating. 

“Got any plans for tonight?” Gabe asks.

Jared shrugs. “Not really,” he says. “Watching the game with Elaine.”

“Come over to ours,” Stephen says. “Have some dinner. Watch the Flames try not to die.”

“I—” Jared says. “I shouldn’t be out too late.”

Mostly because Bryce is definitely going to want to talk after the game, and Jared would also like that.

“We’ll kick you out after the game’s over,” Stephen says. “I have work tomorrow, unlike some people.”

“We have a game tomorrow,” Gabe says, and Stephen sniffs like that doesn’t count. “Oh! Bring Elaine!” 

“Absolutely not,” Jared says.

Jared beats Elaine back — maybe she did actually have errands, and he takes a nap, gets woken up by the ringer he has when Bryce calls during his do not disturb time.

“Hey,” Jared says through a yawn.

“Happy birthday!” Bryce says, then, “Shit, were you napping?” 

“Alarm was going to go off soon anyway,” Jared says. “Aren’t you at the Saddledome right now?”

“Yeah,” Bryce says. “I ducked away. Chaz is spotter.”

Jared can hear Chaz say something in the background.

“He says he’s got us covered,” Bryce says before Jared can ask. “And not to be too mushy.”

“I’m never mushy,” Jared says.

“I am,” Bryce says, cheerfully unrepentant about it. “Did mom like the flowers?”

Jared kind of loves the fact he doesn’t bother to ask if Jared did. “She did.”

“She said Gabe took you out for lunch?” Bryce says.

“Yeah, him and Stephen and Dmitry,” Jared says. “After I got shaving cream pie to the face. It stings like hell when it gets in your eyes.”

“Thank fuck my birthday’s in August,” Bryce says. “Worst tradition ever.”

“Seriously,” Jared says. “We’re going to watch your game tonight. They invited Elaine, but—”

“Oh, mom would love that,” Bryce says. “She’s freaking out during every game. Says it’s easier when you’re there watching too.”

Well now Jared can’t leave her to freak out _alone_. 

Elaine is, as Bryce predicted, delighted to be invited to Gabe and Stephen’s, chattering happily the entire drive back — Jared has spent too much time in cars today, he likes living with Elaine, but next season he’s probably going to have to look for somewhere closer to the rinks — and making Jared stop at the liquor store so she can pick up a nice bottle of wine, asking what Gabe would like while Jared shrugs, totally useless. She seems happy with her decision, at least, so Jared’s sure it’s great.

Stephen’s the one who answers the door when they get there, still dressed for work even though he slacked off all day. 

“Hey,” Stephen says. “Jared. Mrs. Marcus?”

“Elaine, please,” Elaine tells him.

“Stephen,” Stephen says, “Gabe’s boyfriend.”

“Oh!” Elaine says, glancing over at Jared. Jared possibly should have told her that at — literally any point. It felt like crossing a line to, but also like — obviously they’re comfortable enough about it that Stephen introduces himself as that. But maybe that’s just because they know whose mom she is, that she’ll obviously be chill considering she’s living with her son’s husband right now.

“That’s a lovely coat, Elaine,” Stephen says.

“Oh, thank you!” Elaine says. “My, um — I got it last mother’s day.”

“Stephen knows about Bryce,” Jared says with a wince, because yeah, that is also a thing she does not know.

“Oh good!” Elaine says, a little wrong-footed, and Jared feels worse. She knew that Gabe knew, but probably mentioning that Gabe had a boyfriend who also knew was relevant information before they arrived. Jared sucks. 

“Sorry,” Jared mumbles as Stephen takes her coat and ostentatiously hangs it up in their closet, then takes Jared’s. He’s just showing off now.

“I’m glad you have friends here,” Elaine says, shooting him a bright smile and then warmly greets Gabe when he comes out of the kitchen like they’ve been friends for years and she didn’t just meet him this morning. Jared has no idea how she does that. Then she, utterly delighted, takes Stephen up on a tour of the place while Jared grimly gives Gabe the bottle of wine.

“Nice wine,” Gabe says. “Want some?”

“Nah,” Jared says. “Elaine will, though.”

Elaine does, and she sounds even more delighted when Stephen compliments her pick in wine, getting super abstract about it, all ‘hints’ and ‘nose’ and whatever the hall.

“Stop sucking up to Elaine!” Jared hisses to Stephen when Elaine is distracted. With Gabe Jared can see it just being knee-jerk politeness from being brought up that way, from Stephen, well — he isn’t buying it.

“I’m not sucking up,” Stephen says. 

Jared snorts.

“Giving good parent is an inherent skill,” Stephens says. “Sorry you clearly haven’t been blessed with the ability.”

Jared has the sudden immature urge to like — stick his tongue out at him, but he resists it. Mostly because Stephen would never let him live it down.

Stephen continues to be super big on sucking up to Elaine — Gabe too, but with Gabe Jared knows it’s just him being genuinely nice, with Stephen it is _suspicious_ — over dinner, and then the game starts and Elaine’s white-knuckling the arm rest, and Jared would be white-knuckling the other one except he’s in the middle spot, Gabe on his other side, and Stephen’s half looking at his phone, half watching the game. Apparently even half his attention is good, though, because he makes a few comments about Bryce’s game, not anything fawning, just well-placed compliments from someone who knows the game, and Elaine occasionally stops white-knuckling the arm rest to smile, so, okay, maybe Stephen does give good parent. 

And Stephen doesn’t need to exaggerate, or fawn, because Bryce is playing a great game, the kind that shows just how driven he is, how much of the Flames’ success lies with him, because it’s a mixed bag but Bryce is throwing himself everywhere on the ice, trying to be a difference maker, and he manages. It’s still tight as hell, which makes sense considering the position both teams are in, the passion the Golden Seals are showing — not so much the Flames, barring Bryce, a couple of the D-men, and the goalie. And Chaz, Jared assumes, though they aren’t seeing much of that line, stacking heavily to the first because this is the kind of game you need the first line to win. And they’re trying. Bryce is trying. 

This is a weird game, Jared thinks, getting himself water between the second and the third, another glass of wine for Elaine. Because it could make or break the Flames’ season, it could make or break the Golden Seals’ season, like a playoff game in a microcosm. Also because if certain other things fall into place, the Flames winning this game may mean Jared’s facing off against Bryce. Not literally, seeing as Jared’s a winger and not like, nearly good enough to be matched against Bryce’s line, but. Jared does not want to do that literally or figuratively.

Stephen pops open another beer for Gabe, gets himself wine and a glass of water. 

“You’ve had a weird constipated look on your face all game,” Stephen says, when the fridge quits cranking ice for the water. The sound makes Jared’s teeth hurt.

“Uh,” Jared says. “It’s kind of tense? I would actually like my husband to make the playoffs? Not sure how that’s weird.”

“Except the part where you flinched when Casterley tied up the game,” Stephen says.

Jared winces. The Golden Seals have the seventh place spot the Flames are hunting for, so it’s not a two-pointer, it’s a potential four-pointer. And Jared would much rather play the Golden Seals than the Flames. For several reasons. Okay, one reason.

“I just don’t want to play him in the post-season,” Jared admits. It’s weird, he can’t say it to anyone else, but Stephen’s apparently an exception. “I want him to make the playoffs, I just — if they get the seventh seed they’re probably facing us, so.”

“Hmm,” Stephen says. “Aiming for your own husband to fail.”

“I don’t want him to fail!” Jared says. “Just.”

“Not succeed too much?” Stephen says.

“It sounds terrible when you put it like that,” Jared says.

“It’s absolutely terrible,” Stephen says, and despite the judgy words, there’s no actual judgment in his voice. “The rings come off with the gloves, I guess?”

“Hey!” Jared says, and then, “Hey!”, again when Stephen swats him with a dish-towel, enough power behind it that it’s very obvious he used to do that with actual towels in locker rooms. Those things can hurt. 

“Behave, boys!” Gabe says from the living room, with Elaine’s accompanying laughter. “Third’s about to start.”

“So we’re rooting for the Flames to succeed a bit but not too much?” Stephen asks.

“You make me sound like a terrible person,” Jared mutters as he follows him out of the kitchen.

Stephen shrugs a shoulder. “If the shoe fits, Cinderella.”

“That was bad,” Jared says. “You’re bad at jokes.”

“Jared wants the Flames to lose,” Stephen says loudly.

“I do not!” Jared says to Gabe and Elaine’s startled faces. “I do not want the Flames to lose!”

Stephen gives him a triumphant smile, and Jared’s too busy assuring his mother-in-law he does not, in fact, want her son to lose, to figure out the proper revenge. But one day it will come. Jared glares at Stephen to convey this fact.

Stephen’s smile gets smugger.

*

“How was it at Gabe and Stephen’s?” Bryce asks when Jared calls him after they get back to Elaine’s. He sounds bright, almost chirpy. The Flames won in regulation. Jared is happy about that, _Stephen_.

“Horrible,” Jared says, but Bryce only laughs. “Stephen’s super mean.”

“Are you jealous of the competition or something?” Bryce asks.

Jared is torn between outrage and pride at Bryce’s continued improvement at a) chirping and b) admitting that Jared has faults. 

“Everybody ganging up on me on my birthday,” Jared mutters. Apparently the place between outrage and pride sounds sulky, but whatever, it’s his birthday,. No one’s supposed to admit he has faults on his birthday. 

“Would it help if you knew I bought you a house for your birthday?” Bryce asks.

“Don’t you dare fucking tell me—” Jared says.

Bryce giggles. It’s not a laugh, or a chortle, it’s a giggle, Bryce sounding transparently pleased with himself for scoring another point.

“You _too_?” Jared says. “You too, Bryce?”

“Sorry,” Bryce says, not sounding even remotely sorry. “I did get you a present, though. I figured it’d be best to hold off until we’re face to face again though.”

“Are you calling your dick a present?” Jared asks. 

Bryce snorts. “How would my dick be a gift when you have a permanent invite to it.”

“Wanna have phone sex?” Jared says. 

“Gimme ten to rehydrate some more and we can do video?” Bryce asks.

“Man, you really think this is going to be good if you’re rehydrating _before_ the sex,” Jared says.

“I played twenty-five minutes tonight,” Bryce whines. He also had the game-winner, which Jared has — weird feelings about. Bryce scoring is hot. Bryce scoring against the Canucks in the playoffs would _not be hot_.

“Go drink some Gatorade,” Jared says. “Replenish those electrolytes. I can wait ten.”

“Okay,” Bryce says, then, “Love you!”, like Jared isn’t going to talk to him in ten minutes.

“Go!” Jared says, and is grateful it isn’t video right now, because he’s got the dumbest smile on his face when he’s hanging up.


End file.
